Yearbooks
by Luckyklutz
Summary: Lily Evans and James Potter have a problem. A Serious (Sirius?) Problem. How do you ask that one person to sign your yearbook when you hated them for nearly six years? Well, if you're Lily and James, the story involves pranks and pink bunnies. OneShot.


Lily Evans sat at the Gryffindor table during breakfast at the end of her 6th year. She was facing a problem. But not just a problem. A Problem. A Serious Problem. She was sitting across from what she normally considered her arch-nemesis, James Potter. But, surprisingly, that wasn't the problem. No, since the incident last year, she and Potter- James, she had to remember that- had become somewhat cooler with each other. The more optimistic in Hogwarts might even call them friends. No, that wasn't the problem. The problem had to do with a certain book sitting in front of her, and it all traced back to the head girl that year, a girl named Mary McDonald.

Mary was a muggleborn, like Lily, and though she loved Hogwarts dearly, one thing that she missed from the muggle world is the yearbooks that the schools gave out each year. She loved how friends would write in each other's yearbooks, getting more heartfelt and kooky with the years, to look back on fondly later. She remembered the excitement when someone asked you to sign their yearbook.

But time distorts memory, and she had either forgotten or chosen to overlook the bad part of yearbooks- wanting someone to write in your yearbook, but not wanting to ask in an overeager way, or seem desperate. And that was the problem that Lily Evans was facing right now. The Head Girl had petitioned Dumbledore to allow yearbooks, which he had acquiesced to. When you opened the book, you would be treated to moving pictures showing scenes like the Giant Squid sunbathing (don't ask), the Slytherin common room decked out in flashing shades of neon (don't ask), and Peter Pettigrew, looking absolutely terrified, seemingly flying in a Peter Pan fashion around the Great Hall (don't even go there.) Lily loved looking at the pictures, but she hated asking people to sign yearbooks- it felt so _leechy_. Especially when the person she was trying to work up the courage to ask is the one person she despised most for the better part of 6 years.

James Potter had a problem. A Serious Problem. He sat across from the love of his life, the one Lily Evans. Not that she knew, of course. She thought that the constant asking out and wooing was just to annoy her. And it was- at least at first. But as he had to come up with more and more creative ways of asking her out to get her to turn that amazing shade of red fueled by embarrassment and rage, he noticed something. He more craved her attention than her annoyance. To the casual observer, it would seem as though this epiphany had never happened, but his friends were smarter than that. They cornered him at the end of second year.

"Alright, James. Out with it," said Remus Lupin sternly, leaning on the bedpost of James' bed (Seriously, couldn't he use his own bedpost? It was the bed right next to his own.)

"What?" replied James, hoping against hope that they were just fishing for gossip and didn't actually have anything against him.

But his hope was shattered when Sirius raised his eyebrows in a _You've got to be kidding me_ kind of way. "You know what we're talking about. What is going on with you and one Miss Lily Evans?"

Still clinging to the shards of hope that remained him, James tried to bluff his way out. "What? I've always been like that. You know, asking her out, making her turn bright red? Where have you three been the last two years?"

"Not like this," Peter Pettigrew chimed in. "All of a sudden, whenever you torture the aforementioned Miss Evans, there seems to be a look in your eye that is more than just plain marauding. It seems almost desperate."

Seeing the looks on his friends' faces, James broke his façade and spilled. But the rest of the school didn't know. Or so he thought. In truth, most people either had figured it out or just didn't care. James Potter was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

But the fact that he fancied Lily Evans something awful was not the problem. No, the problem lay in the fact that he was trying to get up the nerve to ask the red-haired, green-eyed beauty across from him to sign his yearbook. He did confess that he thought it a rather odd idea at first, but it was kind of fun to write odd phrases in his friend's books, especially Sirius's, Remus's, and Peter's. He had put a spell on his writing so that if anyone else but the Marauders read it… well, actually, he wasn't sure what it said, but if the odd looks on the other people's faces was any indication, it was something really funny.

James shook his head quickly, trying to shake off his musings. He needed to concentrate on his Problem. He looked again at Lily, who seemed to be deep in thought. Maybe if he caught her while she was off guard, she wouldn't refuse…

Lily broke out of her reverie just in time to see James open his mouth, probably to say he was leaving, but she gathered up her Gryffindor courage and spoke, right as James did.

"Would you sign my yearbook?" They spoke in unison, then laughed nervously.

Slowly, as the words sunk in, the two first looked confused, and then smiled as they slowly exchanged yearbooks. As James got out his quill and ink, and thought about what to say, he glanced up and caught a glimpse of Lily staring at his yearbook in perplexity.

"What, Lily?" He asked. "You know what to do with it, right?" He asked this in jest, but Lily wasn't really listening.

"Um, James?" He started, still unused to her saying his name. He refocused in time to hear her say, "Why did someone write, "James Potter is a fluffy pink bunny that hops through the forest, picking up the field mice and bopping them on the head?"

James grabbed the book from her, and looked at the entry she indicated. To him, it read "Hey Prongs!" But James didn't bother reading the words that comprised the note, skipping to the end where, in capital letters, was the name PADFOOT, with a paw print, just because he could.

James's mind whirred. He thought that the spell would play a joke on the reader. And where had he gotten the spell? _Sirius…_

"I'm going to kill him!" He jumped up, nearly knocking the bench over in his haste. For a second, he stopped and looked back. "Don't mind that. It's just Sirius not living up to his name. Sign my yearbook?" Then James sprinted down the length of the Gryffindor table, and out the door.

Lily smiled. He really was quite nice when he wanted to be. Still smiling, she bent her head and dipped her quill into her ink. Putting her ink to the parchment, she wrote, _Dear James…_

 **A/N: This is my first fanfiction, so constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. Please review! PS. I am not JK Rowling, and do not own any characters.**


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